


Beacon

by oldmythologies



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sickfic, Uliro Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-06 02:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmythologies/pseuds/oldmythologies
Summary: A series of short fills for Uliro Week 2017





	1. Endurance/Weakness

 He had always been fascinated with astronomy, in a distant sense. It had never been his expertise, but he would look at the swirling nebulae and distant galaxies with a certain sense of vivid curiosity. If the Blade hadn’t asked that his specialty remain more physical, he would have happily thrown himself into the study of the heavens that they lived in every single day, traversing the universe and finding those little anomalies, the pocket dimensions and wormholes that even now, he didn’t entirely understand.

He had no idea how they had opened what they called the “space taco” or how he was standing with them now but he was eternally thankful. Everything was always so fractured there, looking at the stars he so loved like he was underwater, ripples in space and time warping everything he perceived. He had been alone, feeling like the world was cracking and crumbling beneath his fingers, logically knowing what he was experiencing; the weight of science, of loneliness, wouldn’t let that help him. Now, standing on the bridge of the great Castle of Lions, he realized that he had never spent the time to appreciate what is solid, the hum of life, the more or less constant locations of the stars. He appreciated the hum of life, even at this late hour, the soft breathing and footsteps as a man came to join him.

They were silent at first, companionable in the way they didn’t even need to look at one another and yet still recognize that they were appreciating the exact same qualities of the moment.

Shiro had a constant ache in the back of his head, telling him that this wasn’t reality, that he was still in an arena or in a cold cell somewhere, his mind making up this pleasant fantasy in order to keep him from tearing himself apart from the inside out. He would never admit it, but he hated to be alone. He needed those sounds, those smells, that feeling of truth that was held in his friends, his family.

They both looked out at the pinpricks of light, literal light years away, and breathed with them.

Shiro was the first to speak. “I’m sorry it took us so long to get to you.”

Ulaz huffed, his ears tilting down as he tuned them to listen.

“Do not be sorry. You saved me, nonetheless.”

Shiro nodded, solemn. “I just wish you hadn’t had to go through that alone.”

Ulaz turned to look at Shiro and realized that Shiro’s eyes were already boring into him, regret evident. The color was particularly striking in the blue glow, giving the silver an ethereal glow and lending credence to the apology.

Ulaz looked down at him.

“You, of all people, have absolutely nothing to apologize for. What you experienced at the hands of the Empire, at my hands, was far worse than any mental stress I might have had while sitting on an empty spaceship, completely unharmed.”

It was Shiro’s turn to huff and look away. “Yeah, but I don’t even remember it.”

Ulaz cocked his head. Shiro seemed ashamed of this, of his body’s own method of self preservation, of keeping him from the additional stress of reliving the pain that Ulaz had witnessed first hand. He didn’t quite understand.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Shiro shook his head. “I’m more disappointed than anything else. I used to think I was strong, but if my head thinks I can’t deal with it, I guess we know what I really am.”

Ulaz pouted. You wouldn’t know, because his face didn’t move at all, but to the Galra this look was the equivalent of a jaw dropping.

“Shiro, you could not possibly think that you’re weak.”

Shiro kept his eyes locked on to the stars, jaw tightening.

“Shiro, you need to listen to me.”

Shiro shook his head again, looking down. Ulaz closed the single step between them, standing in between the window and Shiro. He placed one hand on Shiro’s shoulder, watching the smaller man flinch before relaxing into the touch as he realized it wasn’t meant to hurt him. Ulaz’s other hand came up underneath Shiro’s jaw. Shiro’s head willingly turned up, but his eyes remained locked on Ulaz’s chest, looking anywhere but up at his eyes.

“Shiro, I am constantly amazed at how little you know your own strength.”

At that, Shiro finally looked up, eyes wet and full of hope, pleading for Ulaz’s words to be true. Ulaz almost lost his train of thought at the sight of them. He continued anyway, slightly breathless.

“You survived, Shiro. You  _ survived _ . I had never in my life seen endurance like yours. You do not even know the horrors you had to face, and that is  _ good _ . You made it through them and you remain this radiant beacon of light. You inspire people. You inspire me.”

Ulaz could swear he heard Shiro’s jaw strain. The tears fell.

“Do you understand? Shiro, you are not weak. You have never been weak. I do not know how you do it, but every single day you wake up with the weight of the world on your shoulders, and you smile. You are alive, and you do not let your past define you. You still  _ smile _ . Never let anything convince you that you shouldn’t.”

Shiro bit down on his lower lip as he tried to fight it, but he couldn’t hold back the grin, nodding furiously.

Ulaz wasn’t expecting the hug, but the warm grip felt more real than even the stars or the sounds. He held Shiro right back, letting the tears soak the fabric over his chest. He focused on it, held onto it, and thanked the stars.


	2. Dreams/Memories

Shiro would never get used to the dreams of before but he would never do anything to stop them. There were the closest he ever got to really knowing what happened in that missing year. He often thought that it wasn’t the terrors of the arena that haunted him, but rather the hole in his head. He had just enough memory to know that he’d done terrible things but not enough to know what it was really like. His imagination filled those holes with the worst possibilities, and it was his imagination that convinced him that he had been, maybe even was, something less than human. The holes, the breaks in his memory, were the little voices that followed him, reminding him that he didn’t know who he was, not anymore. The dreams the holes, drop by drop, and even if they left him exhausted and trembling every single night, at least the voices were a little bit quieter the next morning.

They were never pleasant; nothing had ever been pleasant, not then, but sometimes the dreams passed without him screaming himself awake in a dark room. Those dreams, the dreams of silent moments alone in his cell, moderately free of the constant pain that accompanied his life as a gladiator, the moments when he wasn’t completely starved, the moments where he was left alone, where he almost smiled, wher he simply shuddered before turning back into the pillow were few and far between. He relished every single one. A constant figure in those dreams, where life wasn’t pure pain, was Ulaz.

There he was, passing the meal through the slat at the bottom of the cell door, instructing Shiro to take the pills he’d left. Shiro remembered the tears that slipped down his cheeks when the medication took effect, dulling the pain in one warm wave. He hadn’t thought he would ever feel relief like that again.

Those weren’t the only dreams he had of Ulaz, though. Often times he was the monster silhouetted by the surgical lights and when Shiro woke up in the arms of the demon from his nightmare, Ulaz couldn’t help but think that maybe he shouldn’t be here with him, with all of his claws and teeth and the way he obviously plagued Shiro in his sleep. Those nights, where Shiro couldn’t remember that Ulaz never wanted to hurt him, the he had tried his best to keep Shiro from pain, they were the worst for both of them. They’d both be thrown into memories of the people they never wanted to be; Ulaz as the devil who took Shiro’s arm, Shiro as the beast in the cage who got a bit too good at biting back.

But Shiro always remembered, eventually. He’d melt into the larger man, breathe in his scent, make sure that his head was tucked into the nape of Ulaz’s neck. He was safety now and sometimes, he had been safety then. Shiro let the dreams come, and bit by bit, Ulaz helped filled the holes in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on [on tumblr](http://oldmythos.tumblr.com)!


	3. Misunderstanding/Honesty

Ulaz never slept at the same times or for the same lengths as the humans or Alteans. Something about his biology let him wake long before the lights even began to fade up. He liked to head to the training level or the library first. Honestly, he just went wherever Shiro wasn’t. Ulaz didn’t know if Shiro ever really slept. As far as he could tell, the human was always doing something, never resting, never stopping, always going going going. Ulaz had no idea how he did it, but he refused to be the one to bring any more discomfort into the former Champion’s life.

He knew there was a certain sense of uneasiness that came with his presence, there had to be; Shiro could not be comfortable living and breathing alongside the monstrous alien that had helped destroy him. It didn’t matter that everything Ulaz did was what he had to do to ensure his and the Blade’s survival, and by extension, Shiro’s. That didn’t change the fact that it had been Ulaz who cut Shiro open, changed him, put these horrors into his memory and kept him from rest.

And so every time Ulaz woke up, way too early, he visited first the training deck; if he heard the sounds of Shiro letting out his frustrations on an unsuspecting gladiator, then Ulaz would find somewhere else to haunt until the princess and Coran awoke and gave him some way to be helpful for the day.

He put his ear to the door as always, listening for the telltale signs of heavy breathing and metal on metal, the occasional grunts of exertion. At their absence, he placed his palm on the scanner beside the door. It slid open with a hiss.

He was surprised by the lights, normally off when he got his turn to enter the room.

He was more surprised at the soft intake of breath and wide eyes from the man on the bench across the room.

They looked at each other for a moment, Ulaz’s ears perking up before he turned to leave with a curt “Apologies, Shiro.”

“Ulaz, wait!”

Ulaz stopped in his tracks, gaze fixed on the ground. He heard Shiro’s footsteps coming up behind him.

“I did not mean to bother you.”

Shiro reached up to place his hand on Ulaz’s shoulder. His left hand. 

“It’s no bother.”

He removed his hand and walked right into Ulaz’s view. No looking away. Shiro wiped the sweat off his brow.

“What are you doing up this early?”

Ulaz cocked his head. “I always wake before your companions.”

Shiro’s brow furrowed. “I’ve never seen you and I’m always up at this time.”

Ulaz nodded. “I do not wish to disturb you further.”

“I told you, it’s no bother.”

Ulaz closed his eyes. “I am aware that my presence can not possibly be comfortable for you, after what I’ve put you through.”

Shiro scoffed, a broken humorless laugh. “Ulaz, you saved my life. Of course I’m comfortable with you.”

Ulaz choked on his next words.  _ He didn’t remember. He didn’t know.  _ Ulaz floundered for what to say next, how to get out of this without having to explain all the terrible things he’d done to Shiro, why Shiro  _ shouldn’t  _ be comfortable with him but here he was, giving Ulaz a confused smile and a quiet wish that said  _ stay _ .

Ulaz bit down on his cheek.

“Sit with me,” he said. Shiro needed to know.

Without waiting for a response, Ulaz went to the bench that Shiro had been previously occupying, enjoying his water break. Ulaz was sorry he had to destroy the moment like this.

Shiro looked at him from across the room, confused, but followed. He sat down.

Ulaz breathed.

The silence was heavy and Shiro did not push it. Ulaz spared a glance and caught Shiro’s worried and present gaze. Shiro was caught by just how expressive blank yellow eyes could be.

There was no more waiting. Ulaz had to do it. He had to do it now.

He spoke evenly, eyes fixed on the opposite wall.

“I took your arm.”

He waited for Shiro’s response, yelling, telling Ulaz to leave, to get off the castle, to stop destroying the sanctity of his home. It never came. After a few moments he spared a look at Shiro. His eyes were closed, jaw clenched, hands in tight fists, shaking with a barely perceptible tremor. 

“I’m sorr—”

“Why.”

He spoke softly, without malice, but his eyes remained squeezed shut. Ulaz could barely make out the glimmer of a tear on his eyelash.

“I had to,” he whispered, “to save you.”

Shiro sucked his lip into his mouth and bit down on it, nodding.

“They wanted you to fight. They wanted to keep you fighting until you died, and I—” Ulaz paused, getting his words together.

“I had to save you. The infection was bad. It would have killed you in days if I didn’t stop it. None of them cared, they just wanted you to be a spectacle.” He swallowed. “I was the one to propose the prosthetic. It was the only way I could get you into my care, and I apologize for letting it get that bad. It’s my fault. I was the one to take it off.”

Ulaz was almost stopped by Shiro’s intake of breath, the tear escaping his shut eyes as he nodded.

“I need you to know, Shiro. I am not a good man, and if you need me to, I will leave. I want you to know that so you can make an informed decision about my presence and you can—”

The hug shocked him. Shiro threw his arms around Ulaz’s torso. Ulaz stared at the man trembling for a moment before letting his long arms circle Shiro protectively.

“Thank you,” Shiro whispered, “I needed to know.”

Ulaz let his jaw fall atop Shiro’s soft hair.

“I’m so sorry.”

Ulaz could feel Shiro’s nod more than he could see it. “Thank you.”


	4. Danger/Shelter

Shiro breathed in, breathed out a hum, and left his eyes closed, nuzzling into the soft, lightly furry chest in front of him. He absolutely loved just how big Ulaz was. His entire body was encased by Ulaz’s embrace, who curled around him protectively. His legs were tangled with the alien’s, his head pillow on Ulaz’s long arm, which curled around to cradle his back. The other arm was snug around his back. Shiro had his left arm thrown over Ulaz’s body.

This was most definitely not how they had fallen asleep. They were respectable men, who laid down on their respective side of the beds (holding hands under the sheets, of course), and slowly inched together until Shiro’s head laid on Ulaz’s shoulder. Some time in the night, they both turned into octopi and Shiro got to be held like a baby.

He would never complain.

Ulaz stirred at Shiro’s movement but didn’t move to get up, letting the moment keep them. His ears folded down with his sigh, twitching against his head. He turned down to breath in the scent of Shiro’s hair, reaching to feel the soft strands between his fingers. Shiro mumbled a happy hum. Shiro would never admit to his absurd love of being pet, but when he purred and pushed his head into the waiting hand, it was hard to deny. He felt the rumble of Ulaz’s chuckle and pouted at the teasing, but Ulaz kept running his claws gently over Shiro’s scalp. He burrowed himself even further into Ulaz, blocking out the slowly brightening lights.

“Sleep well, love?” Ulaz asked.

Shiro hummed in response but didn’t speak or open his eyes.

Ulaz smiled. It was so rare to see the great Black Paladin of Voltron as a sleepy puddle in his arms and every time he got to witness it, Ulaz felt blessed. It was hard to think of Shiro as anything but a leader, an inspiration, a pinnacle of virtue, but here, in this bed, he was allowed to be all that and more. Now, he was just a man who got to enjoy being loved; that thought hit Ulaz like a bullet. He tightened his grip and Shiro whined in protest.

“What are you doing,” he mumbled into Ulaz’s fur.

“Holding you.” Ulaz replied.

“And what were you doing before?”

“Not holding you well.”

Shiro laughed and looked up, pushing away just enough to catch Ulaz’s eyes. His little smirk, ruffled hair, and groggy eyes took Ulaz’s breath away. Shiro scooted up, using Ulaz’s shoulders as leverage, putting them at the same level. Ulaz pouted as his carefully constructed grip was interrupted.

“I appreciate all of it.”

When Shiro kissed his nose and said “boop!” Ulaz could only blink.

Shiro’s laugh warmed his heart and Ulaz just had to hold that laugh inside of him. He kissed smiling lips and smiled right back.

They were both giggling when they pulled away, Shiro pressing his forehead against Ulaz’s, his soft voice filling Ulaz’s ears.

“I haven’t slept that well in years.”

“It is my job to make sure you sleep this well for the rest of your life.”

Shiro closed his eyes.

“Thank you.”

“Always.”


	5. Sick/Healing

Even when bedridden, Shiro was awful at admitting that he was sick. Ulaz walked into their shared quarters and was immediately hit by a wave of that stuffy, thick air, warm but not quite warm, kind of like walking into the desert and kind of like walking into the jungle and kind of like walking into a cave. Ulaz wrinkled his nose.

“‘m coming, just give me a min…” Shiro’s voice drifted off as he turned into the pillow, positioning his arms to push himself up off the bed. They never actually did anything, but he was ready for the moment he had enough energy to move.

Ulaz placed the tray he was carrying on the nightstand on Shiro’s side of the bed and knelt down beside him. Shiro glared at him with the one eye he had visible over the pillow. He flopped back onto his side when Ulaz cocked his head and turned his ears down. Shiro had gotten very good at reading Ulaz’s very specific expressions and this one said “stop being dumb.”

Ulaz huffed at Shiro’s acquiescence and ran his finger back through Shiro’s hair, pulling the sweat soaked locks off his forehead.

Shiro coughed but closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. Ulaz could hear the rattle in his lungs from here and feel the heat radiating off of him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Good.”

“Shiro.”

Shiro peeked his eyes open once more, only to catch a reprise of Ulaz’s “stop being dumb” look.

Shiro sighed.

“Head hurts.”

“Is that a new symptom?” Ulaz asked.

Shiro’s smile was barely perceptible but Ulaz spent enough time staring at his face to catch it. He swallowed. “No, Doctor Ulaz. ‘s not.”

Ulaz frowned.

“How often do you have headaches, Shiro?”

Shiro squeezed his already shut eyes and chewed the inside of his cheeks as he thought.

“Most of th’ time.”

Ulaz’s eyes widened. “You have a headache all the time?”

Shiro nodded. “Not normally this bad.”

Shiro coughed again, a hacking sound, his lungs obviously trying to clean themselves out. Ulaz provided a tissue for him to spit into.

Ulaz grabbed the water from his tray as he took the tissue and put it in the wastebasket by the bed.

“You need to drink.”

Shiro didn’t see Ulaz put the powdered fever reducer and pain medication in the water and he didn’t need to. Shiro would never take anything that dulled his senses, not when there was the chance that his team could need him. Ulaz would always try his best to respect Shiro’s wishes, but not when it meant hurting his health; not when it meant that Shiro put himself in pain.

Ulaz helped Shiro sit up and held the glass to his lips. Shiro grabbed it from his hands, took it all in a few short gulps, and fell back into the pillows with a sigh. He turned into the pillows.

“Wake m’ up if you need me.” he mumbled into the fabric at his nose, nuzzling into it.

“Will do,” Ulaz responded, gathering his tray, turning down the lights, and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

He’d make sure no one woke him up for a while.


	6. Daylight/Starlight

Ulaz had spent more of his life in space than in a real atmosphere. He was used to recycled air, small bunks tucked into the walls, a life filled with dull grey planes, the light from the stars one of the only beauties he got to experience. He didn’t dislike this existence, but there was always something magical about those first few steps onto a planet. Solid ground. There was this sense that he was finally alive. You didn’t get warm breezes on a spaceship, you didn’t get dirt on your shoes. Ulaz relished in whatever new sensations he was exposed to, be it that wet cold that comes with snow, the dry muggy heat of desert planets, the feeling of lying in the shade of a tree and watching the lights dance off of the leaves.

He loved the smells. He loved how you can smell fresh water in one waft of air, food from the market in another, how it all mixed together and changed.

He loved the sun. If he had the luxury, he’d live on a sunny planet, a lively one, with lots of plants and animals and people, get a little place in the middle of it all, find a nice warm spot to curl up, and nap the day away. Shiro had laughed when Ulaz had told him that, in the soft glow of the stars, in each other’s arms. Shiro had leaned into Ulaz, smiled up at him, called him a big purple cat. Ulaz didn’t think the description was too far off, based on what he knew of these Earth “cats.”

Shiro had promised, as soon as the war was over, he’d take Ulaz home, show him the whole world, let him pick a place somewhere sunny, maybe California, maybe Hawaii, maybe Greece, where they could nap all day long, eat all the local foods, sometimes travel to world. Sometimes, he promised, they’d visit the mountains and go to all the cities and swim in the vast oceans of his home planet. As soon as they had the time, he said. As soon as they had the luxury.

If he had the luxury, there was a lot of things he would do. For now, he was happy to turn his face up into the light, enjoy the knowledge that he stood on solid ground, dirt beneath his feet, and breathe it all in.

Shiro grabbing hold of his hand was a familiar feeling, but turning to look at the shorter man, glowing in the sun, was something entirely new. His eyes, a slate grey on the ship, practically glowed silver in the daylight. The warmth brought out the pink in his skin and for a moment, Shiro looked like he had before: wide smile, sparkling eyes, and rosy cheeks.

If he had the luxury, Ulaz would make sure that Shiro got to feel like this every day.

**Author's Note:**

> Yell about things with me on tumblr [@oldmythos](http://oldmythos.tumblr.com)!


End file.
